Good evening! I hope everyone is enjoying this sub arctic weather that our fine city is currently experiencing. I am lucky enough to be going through a move during this frosty period. I'm moving from Bankview to Aspen Woods. Now fortunately for me I have some amazingly wonderful friends who are pretty much doing the bulk of the work for me. (moving the large items I can't even budge) Shout out to you guys, you don't know how much it means that you would do that for me!!! I have had to move anything and everything else on my own using my two hands and my faithful neon affectionately named Ne Ne she never lets me down. (knock on wood as she is a Chrysler)
Now as some of you may be aware moving is challenging for the average human but that challenge is exponentially increased when you are a "special" person. When I say special I am not using it as a synonym for extraordinary, I'm using it as a synonym for handicapped. Please don't gasp, I'm not mocking the physically or mentally disabled, I am meaning people who go through life needing a handicap, like in golf! I am one of these souls, I have always had a sneaking suspicion if someone (god, Buddha or whoever you pray too, for me it's Britney Spears! Yes she is not technically a spirit yet but she came close enough once or twice) could increase my handicap life would be as simple for me as it seems for everyone else. However no matter how hard I pray to Britney it seems my prayers are never answered so I will have to go on living as a handicapped individual (without the benefit of fabulous parking) instead of with the special handicap on life that I have always longed for.
Most of my clumsiness occurs in the form of minor annoyances. On a frequent basis the contents of my Starbucks coffee leaps (yes it can leap trust me) out of it's take away cup and on too anything light in color that I happen to be sporting on the day in question. (Tasha saved me from this buy going to Costco and buying me a jumbo pack of tide to go) When I glance in the mirror I notice a series of small bruises on both my left and my right arms. It would be less embarrassing to fabricate some awesome story of how I have been recently haunted by a spirit and I have woken up in the middle of the night to find the ghost gripping tightly to my arms and whispering a faint message that I can barely make out...unfortunately this hasn't happened to me yet. The bruises on my arms exist because I regularly stumble into walls, when I say stumble I don't mean just drunken, I mean constantly. These two examples give you some idea that I'm a klutz but they don't do my condition justice by any means.
I have destroyed two cellular phones, the first one I dropped in a lidless cup of coffee that was sitting in my cup holder, the second time the phone leaped off of its very study position on a shelf and into a bowl of soup that I was preparing. This incident is why I am not joining the blackberry/iphone revolution.
Last week I was walking to seven eleven to get my beloved twenty ounce coffee when I tripped over my own pants, skinning both of my knees. Now this wasn't your average trip both of my legs flew out straight behind me like superman and I plummeted to the ground, HARD. My ego was damaged more than my body, I quickly stood up, wiped the tears forming in my eyes and ran into Sev, hoping I was out of view from other people. A 60ish year old man came up behind me and asked me if I was ok. I assured him I was and he advised me to sue Seven Eleven. Can you sue a convenience store for being close to retarded? Unfortunately we do not live in America or I might try it.
Other incidents include but are not limited to:
- opening the fridge and having all of the condiments FLY out and smash on the tile floor not once but twice
-kicking a box full of candles off of the counter on to the floor (the glass encasing the candles smashed everywhere)
-spilling multiple beverages on other peoples carpets
-dropping my purse in an empty dumpster
-locking my keys in my car
-gassing up and getting my neon stuck vertically on a pole (she still has a scar)
-dropping an unmentioned phone in snow (it survived so it doesn't count as number 3)
-ruining my table trying to shove it into the neon
-breaking my toe demonstrating a dance move (alcohol was involved here)
-taking a chunk of the wall off of the wall trying to remove a plastic hook
-accidentally cutting myself to the bone with a box cutter on my first day of a new job
-tossing my boss's parking pass in the mailbox with a handful of mail
-having the police return my wristlet to me after they found it on the Airdrie street
-loosing so many id's, debit cards and credit cards that my sister said she knows someone who found one and uses it as a fake id
-and lets go way back to grade seven when I dropped several Snapple's at the same spot of my junior high school
I'm sure those who know me well can think of multiple examples not listed, but I'm not willing to humiliate myself to any greater extent.
Secretly I've always wondered if my condition has been due to the fact that I choose to surround myself with gingers on a regular basis. Some of you may argue that this theory would hold no water and that in fact it is similar to racism. I would disagree, the clerk in attendance when I drove into the pole that the gas station was indeed a ginger. I remember thinking how horrifying a red uniform looked in conjunction with red hair. (I was at petro) The police man who found my wristlet was a ginger, at the time of both occurrences of the fridge door releasing all of it's contents on to our tile floor Billie-Jean's hair was bright red. And by golly I swear there was most certainly a ginger walking it's dog behind me when I mailed my boss's parking pass. Now there is a gaping hole in my ginger theory, I was alone when I dropped the phone in the bowl of soup, but the soup itself was ginger carrot!! IT'S A SIGN. As I'm moving from the old condo to the new condo I am ensuring that I check every body's roots and carefully inspect the homeless people lurking on the streets as I pile boxes into my car to ensure none of them are GINGERS I don't need a flare up of my special condition!!!!!!! (homeless people in bankview are extraordinarily filthy, bundle up real good and travel in flocks so its a challenge) Hopefully the rest of my move continues to go smoothly and the challenges I face are not exaggerated by the presence of gingers! Wish me luck!!!!
P.S. - My ginger theory does not apply to gingers under the age of one year as they could still grow hair non ginger in color. Thanks for reading!